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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28780215">Other Means</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hurricos/pseuds/Hurricos'>Hurricos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dubious Consent, F/M, Good old debt collection fic AGAIN on here, Kind of non-con, Low Honor Arthur Morgan, Porn with minimal Plot, Reader Insert, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Virgin Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:08:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,125</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28780215</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hurricos/pseuds/Hurricos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Your father took out a bank loan some time ago and failed to repay due to his already poor financial  situation. Subsequently, it’s no surprise when an imposing stranger appears at your door looking for the cash.</p><p>However his planned means of the repayment come as an unwelcome surprise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arthur Morgan/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Other Means</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This has been done to death on here but I thought I’d do my take.<br/>I had a real battle as to whether to put this as r*pe/non-con archive warnings, but in the end I decided it was definitely more dubious consent more than anything. Anyway just a word of warning for any readers who might be sensitive to that as there are non-con/dubious con themes present in this fic</p><p>With that said, let’s get started :-) thanks so much for reading</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a pleasant morning, with mellow blue skies and a thin coverage of wispy clouds breezing by. It was a morning like any other, where you served to a currently empty house in the absence of your lazy pig of a father - even at this mid-morning time he could be found already slathered at the Saloon in Strawberry or Valentine, two whisky bottles down and prepared to line the pockets of saloon owner even more.</p><p>Your home life was certainly a hazardous situation; since your father was fired from his job at Appleseed Timber Co. for drinking and then, unsurprisingly- accidentally maiming a colleague with an axe. Since then, the bottle had been of even more comfort than usual for the destitute man - like a maternal womanly figure, it drew him to it’s intoxicating breast day after day until there was no man that stumbled home, just a wordless, incoherent fool.</p><p>It was hard to deduce how you still had some money to buy groceries... without a job, and your father insisting you stayed home to care for the house - there was no real consistent means of income for the house, yet still your father could set aside a few bucks for a trip to the shop, and even more notes stuffed into his pocket every morning when he left for the saloon.</p><p>You had suspected something dubitable had been going on, but your father was a private man and if you ever dared to ask questions when possible, you were always quickly shut down.</p><p>So in some ways, it was very little of a surprise when you looked up from the kitchen sink one morning to find your eyes settling in on an unfamiliar cut figure riding into the grounds of your modest cabin home.</p><p>A lean man with a stern expression sat with passive confidence aback a beautiful chocolate roan Dutch Warmblood, the horse snorting lazily as the rider drew back gently on the reins to halt the beast.</p><p>It was such a subtle and calming looking motion to the horse, that it was suddenly hard to believe this man could look so tough and mean after respecting his horse like any decent folk would.</p><p>Your shaky hands set down the wash cloth and plate, and you tried to quell the nervous panicking in your head that told you this man could possibly mean you harm? Surely there were other reasons he might be here, other than a negative premise?</p><p>Unfortunately so, a feeling screaming anxiously in your gut put all of your hairs on end, your skin prickling with an intuition that this could not be some random friendly feller who’d wandered in off the track.</p><p>Nervously, you peered through the window as the broad-shouldered man dismounted from the back of his sleek and muscular horse. Even the man’s walk was filled with a purpose, a certain tempo to his steps as he approached the porch that told you he was here for something.</p><p>You had been expecting the knocks at the door but even when they came, it still managed to cause you to jump. Panicky hands scrambled to smooth the apron covering your skirts, as you paced skittishly to the door - as apprehensive about opening it to this man as you would be opening it to a grizzly.</p><p>The door drew back, and the form of the man you’d been studying from afar was suddenly right here in front of you. More real than ever, you could smell that unique musky scent of the leather saddle, the faintest aroma horse sweat and fresh forest air that seemed to linger about him. His face was chiselled like that of a city statue, a strong jaw peppered with stubble and piercing blue eyes settled beneath the shadowy brim of his hat. He donned a blue shirt, which moulded perfectly to his extensive torso and shoulders, material clinging at his arms like a man who’d worked hard for most of his life. Evident laborious work, the type that breaks you - hours upon hours riding horses, lifting heavy weights. </p><p>Something told you however that this man didn’t really work for any sort of organisation. He certainly didn’t come across as a ranch worker or a farm hand of any kind. In fact, the more you looked you noticed scars and nicks on his bared forearms, a scar on his chin where his stubble seemed to grow around... fights and run ins certainly weren’t the typical day to day tasks of a farmhand. </p><p>And of course, if he was a farm hand why would he even be here? What business could he surely want, a man with a scarred body and almost emotionally devoid looking blue eyes peering from under the brim on his weather beaten hat. Not to mention the fact you’d suddenly noticed the gun belt slouched lazily around his hips, and an offhand holster too - both leather cases containing two small pistols of some sort.</p><p>“Mornin’, Miss.” he introduced himself, only waiting a second after his blunt introduction before his muscular form pushed past you with ease - entering into your home. Startled from his outright rude behaviour, you fought to catch your breath and panicked over figuring out the next steps.</p><p>“You (name)?” He asked, walking around the small kitchen table, examining the morning paper that was nearly laid by your father’s place.</p><p>“Y-yes.” You were finding it hard to breathe or think, let alone reply. It wasn’t everyday you had folk barging into your home. Especially not ones like this. </p><p>His eyes flashed up from their disimpassioned flicked over the news paper, a wolffish glint behind his stare that unnerved you immensely.</p><p>“Good. Your father said I would find y’ here.” He mumbled, large calloused hands resting on the back of the kitchen chair as he leaned forwards, his full weight braced on the poxy piece of furniture.</p><p>“Your pa borrowed some money from us, and so far we ain’t been paid back.” The man explained in a low voice, looking around the kitchen momentarily, “he told me he ain’t got the money,” the menacing man then looked back at you, “and it seems there ain’t much stuff in here of any value neither.” His voice seemed to be growing more irritated.</p><p>“We had to sell everything when pa first lost his job.” You cried, feeling physically frightened and the tears were brimming at your eyes - it was horrible recalling selling all of your mother’s value and sentimental items off for a few bucks, and that memory coupled with the panic of what was unfolding was enough to send you into a flustered frenzy. </p><p>“He mentioned that.” The man responded, leaning back from his propped stance on the chair as his right hand went to his chin, fingertips grazing musingly over his jawline. The way his eyes were surveying you, an intensity and determining thoughtfulness about it that deeply unsettled you.</p><p>“Seeing as he can’t settle the debt, we came to a small agreement that we’re both happy with.” The words came with a darkened inflection, and like a famished lion he began to stalk his way across the kitchen - slowly and menacingly as if to intimidate the hell out of you. </p><p>It was working, and your back was soon firmly pressed up against the kitchen cupboards.</p><p>“Your gonna come with me, Miss. And you’re gonna help us settle this debt.” His large hand reached out and grasped your wrist roughly, like a handcuff - but all the more tense and suffocating upon your skin. </p><p>He didn’t have to elaborate... you knew you were a bargaining chip, or rather - your body would be. Fresh tears threatened to spill from your eyes, it sounded as if your father had agreed to this. The man really had no grace or respect, the bastard.</p><p>“Please, Mister... Please...” you whispered, heart rate rising as the seconds passed; your mind ramping up the intrusive thoughts of what might happen to you. “You don’t have to do this.” You were begging now, as you pulled back at his possessive and controlling clutch on your wrist.</p><p>“Oh, but I do, darlin’.” He growled, almost mocking you with a smirk that occupied his face. “And we got your daddy to thank for that.”</p><p>Yanking your arm, he pulled your closer - watching as you flinched, expecting a whack or a slap of some kind but it never came. What was apparent as you opened your eyes was the unrelenting fervency of his fixed state. </p><p>“I ain’t gonna hurt y’,” his voice was a low timbre, vibrations that could feel in your fearful body as he spoke. “Not if y’ just behave and do as you’re told.” </p><p>Oh this was awful, but it seemed there was no quick or immediate escape from this considering he was clearly a man who didn’t hesitate to put people in their place. With the confidence of his intimidation, you wondered whether he had truly hurt people before. He acted like a brick wall, untouchable and immovable ... surely that spoke volumes for a man who had little regard in hurting people who crossed him.</p><p>Walking you out onto the porch, the man allowed you to lock the door before escorting you - or rather walking you, by your wrist - over to his horse. The mare sweetly brayed as her rider approached, a rather affectionate gesture that seemed worlds away from the man who had you practically held prisoner at the moment.</p><p>With all the ease and strength of a working bull, his hands settled snugly on your waist as he lifted you effortlessly onto the back of his mount. In that moment you realised truly how vulnerable you were, he was hellishly strong and you imagined he could break you in a second if he wanted to.</p><p>“Hold on now, Miss.” his voice came from in front of you, as you sat on the Warmblood’s rump. With a click of his tongue and a nudge of his spurs, the horse moved into an animated trot - following the dirt track away from the house and out into the wilderness; the muddy track squelching under hoofbeats and the tall conifer trees looming like giants. </p><p>With some reluctance, and with a million colliding thoughts of sadness, humiliation and rage on your mind- your somewhat shaky arms wrapped timidly around the midsection of the outlaw in front of you. </p><p>Taking a deep breath, you could only pray he was true to his word - and that he would refrain from hurting you.</p><p>-</p><p>A small glint of hope surfaced in your heart when the stranger and his horse rode into town. </p><p>He’d enlightened you with his name, first name only - and didn’t let a single drop of further information pass his lips. You’d been too scared to ask anymore questions, he seemed the type to lose his temper and far from being in the mood for a chit chat.</p><p>Seeing all the faces wandering around Valentine, idly leaning on porch fronts or trudging down the muddy street with shopping baskets in hand - you’d had some wish that they might see the plea in your eyes, the tension that occupied your frightened body and offer to help.</p><p>Eyes fell to you, the scared looking girl on the back of the brooding stranger’s horse - but as soon as their gazes settled, they fleeted once more - like ducks flapping off in a frenzy from the sound of gunfire.</p><p>It seemed even they could not ignore the charged demeanour of this man; his energy screamed aggression and intimidation and you got the impression many folk thought it would be stupid to interfere.</p><p>He stopped his horse outside of the Valentine Hotel, and as soon as the mare’s hooves ground to a halt; you in turn felt your stomach drop like a stone into water.</p><p>It all felt so real now; it wasn’t just an empty gesture - not that you had ever thought it was... it was the simple fact of seeing the building in front of you that really cemented your fate.</p><p>“Not a word outta y’ until we’re upstairs.” He growled in your ear, low and assertive as he helped you down from the horse. Perhaps from across the street it may of looked like a couple, whispering to one another - but you were well aware of the role of the prisoner you were playing. </p><p>One of his large arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, pulling you right against his side as he walked you both into the hotel reception. The urge to push him off you was reading up inside you like a stallion chomping at the bit, but the quick reminder of the guns he carried on his person quickly deterred you from doing so. As much as you hated all of this, you did quite like the idea of making it out alive.</p><p>Arthur mumbled something to the clerk about getting a room - a solid lack of emotion to his tone that had the clerk looking between the pair of you momentarily. The man’s brown eyes flickered from the cowboy to your left and then back to you - his eyes flickering multiple times and your heart leapt for a small second thinking he’d step in possibly.</p><p>“Does it take that long to think about, friend?” Arthur snapped, “a room please. Now.” His voice was pressed with irritation and pressure, just like how the air gathers a certain heavy semblance before a thunderstorm. </p><p>Just as quickly as your hope had sparked, it was quashed again as the nervous clerk wordlessly pressed the off-brass coloured keys  into Arthur’s awaiting hands. Even the way his fingers curled around the keys gave off an atmosphere of smugness and egotism; he’d gotten what he wanted and it appeared nothing could stand in his way now. </p><p>Every single muscle in your system felt uncomfortably tense- body on high alert, yet a head spinning nauseous nervousnesses in your gut made you want to keel over at the next moment. Ascending those stairs felt like everything and nothing all at the same time.</p><p>You’d reached the door - a thunk and click of the key and the thing swung back to reveal the small room, with it’s crackling hearth and modest furnishings.  It made you question for a moment why he’d bothered with all this.</p><p>“If you wanted to settle the debt why didn’t you just do it before?” Despite your nervousness your tone relayed some snarky irritation. Clearly he was vile enough to take your body as a form of payment - so how come the effort of dragging you out here to the hotel? </p><p>“Thought you’d like the change of scenery.” He returned from behind you, a smart and cocky intonation in his voice, clicking the door shut with a sound that almost made your heart fail completely. </p><p>“Now I don’t remember sayin’ y’ askin’ questions was part of this debt settlement.” He growled, pacing up behind you so fast you only had a moment to turn and face him, the look of a hunted doe on your frightened expression.</p><p>“Y’ ever been with a man before?” He asked, the question surprising you somewhat. Cheeks flaming, you averted his gaze and shook your head softly. You’d not so much as set foot outside of the cabin you called home, let alone having time to find suitors. </p><p>From the corner of your eyes, you witnessed him smirk so much. Perhaps the way a person would watching a foal trying to walk for the first time on it’s wobbly legs - as if he found your virginal innocence ‘cute’. </p><p>“Gonna enjoy this.” He mumbled, to himself you imagined - by the salacious smirk as he passed by you, the familiar scents of fresh, morning air clinging to his person as he paced slowly towards the bed - sitting himself down on the edge. </p><p>Arthur removed his hat, setting it down on the bedside table. His eyes rarely left you, whilst you stood there like a lemon - feeling totally ready to crumble into an anxious mess the moment he made his advances.</p><p>You could imagine Arthur could sense your fear as plainly as horses did. It must of emanated off you like radioactive substances, and made its evident presence known by the tension racked posture of your body.</p><p>“Strip to y’ underwear.” </p><p>Plain as day the command was, yet you still could not believe the nonchalant way he had addressed it. You’d merely moments ago told him you weren’t practiced at all in this sort of thing-</p><p>“Don’t make me start askin’ twice girl or y’ gonna regret it.” He barked, his steely blue gaze as stern and austere as a scolding general. “Do as y’ told.” There was a low glint in his gaze that flaunted his obvious enjoyment in shouting orders at you.</p><p>How you were begging for the hotel floor to swallow you up whole - for the shame felt unbearable. This was a moment you had imagined you’d share with your future husband ; yet it was all about to unfurl with a man who was using you to replace money. Who had no interest in loving you or taking care of you. He just wanted your pleasure.</p><p>Piece by piece and garment by garment, your fingers plucked at buttons and pulled at laces and ribbons, and soon most of your clothes bar your chemise top and drawers undergarment - a soft lily white colour and pretty with its lace details. It appeared that Arthur too had enjoyed the display - be that the discarding of your clothes or the evident mortification on your face. </p><p>“Sit.” He then instructed, gesturing to his lap. Horrified, you instantly recoiled. </p><p>“I... I don’t-“ you stammered, you weren’t even sure what to say. You’d been brought up your whole life with morales surrounding your in every direction - from newspapers to the adults that had been present in your life since you were a girl, telling you what was desirable and what was not. It went against everything that had been drilled into you.</p><p>“Y’ don’t what?” Arthur retorted, eyes blackening somewhat. “Get over here.” </p><p>Oh his tone was something so not to be argued with, and it took every strength in your body to be pulled in his direction. Your feet were cold against the bare wood, skin prickling with goosebumps from the cool air in the room.  </p><p>Once you were close enough, Arthur pulled you down into his lap. The instant warmth was secretly greeted thankfully by your body, but everything else felt unfamiliar and you were feeling more of a fool than ever.</p><p>His hands settled on the rounds of your hips, your back pressed against his chest. That contact alone had your stomach in a confused stir, but soon the unmistaken warm wet line of kisses started making their way down the curve of your neck, down towards your shoulder and his fingertips easily brushed the thin cotton straps of your chemise down and out of his way. </p><p>“Can... can I ask you one question?” You managed to say through the fog of anxiety and confusion. Heavily, Arthur let out a burdened sigh in response  but said nothing more. You guessed that was his reluctant permission.</p><p>“What do you do for a living sir? You carry guns like an outlaw... ride a horse like an outlaw and frankly well, behave like one...” you said, and not for one second did he stop the peppering of kisses upon your skin. </p><p>There was a few moments pause, before he eventually retreated- sliding you out of his lap and onto the bed, the suddenness of the movement jarring you slightly.</p><p>He stilled a second, looking down at you with those hungry eyes. “I ain’t gonna lie miss. I’m a bad man.” Arthur said in a matter of fact tone that once again left you with no clear answer. But luckily for him you weren’t exactly stupid - you could put pieces together, and the obvious attempts for him to conceal his line of work told you all you needed to know.</p><p>“Y’ kept me waitin’ long enough now.” He seemed to be pressing on, grabbing a hunting knife from his side. Upon seeing the sharp weapon you had wanted to scream, thinking he was going to finally cut you into pieces. Yet he acted too fast for you to do so, instead cutting down the side of your drawers and through your chemise top like they were scrap fabric. </p><p>A vulnerability took hold of you, as the outlaw tossed the torn garments aside and you laid there best trying to cover your nakedness- trying to pull at the sheets to cover yourself.</p><p>“I don’t think so...” he growled, voice thick like tar but with an intoxicating sweet, almost honeyed note. Large calloused hands grasped at your knees, forcing your legs apart and you squeaked at the sensation of the cool air on your thighs and exposed sex. </p><p>“Look at that.” The way his eyes trained intently on your centre made you want to stare in any other direction out of embarrassment. It felt wrong to be looked at in such a way, especially by him. You hadn’t consented to this... hadn’t wanted this...</p><p>Yet you found yourself not in a state of screaming or crying or begging for death over this? His intense and ceaseless eyes looked at you with such a black lust, part of you couldn’t help but feel it too. As much as you really loathed this predicament your father had put you in - Arthur was by no means an unattractive man. And so far, your deeper, carnal desires had secretly been craving the intimate touches never known before.</p><p>You hated yourself... you wanted to be in a fit of great unhappiness and frustration, but it appeared the other subconscious parts of your thinking were more than geared to try to make you enjoy this. </p><p>“Look at me, princess.” His voice from the south end of your body caused you to emerge from the pool of your thoughts. He maintained eye contact, sucking his index and middle finger between his lips and then edging them closer towards your pussy.</p><p>Backing up slightly, you were apprehensive it might hurt but his forearm across your abdomen suddenly halted all attempts to escape. You let out some shallow cries as he pushed his digits into you, your body trying to acclimatise to the new invasion. </p><p>Arthur groaned somewhere from in his throat, his pupils blown wide like a wolf on the scent of blood as he watched his fingers disappearing in and out of you, jaw clenching slightly. </p><p>“So goddamn tight...”  his husky voice broke the otherwise near silence. You were about getting used to that sensation alone when he engaged his thumb across your clit - motion enough to cause you to gasp. Shocks of divine and inconclusive pleasure affected you for those short few moments. However it seemed he’d retreated when he’d seen your response. </p><p>When you looked at the outlaw you were perhaps expecting a discerning frown or some form of displeased look. But instead on his face nestled a greedy smirk and an almost evil look in his blue eyes. A look that informed you he had greatly appreciated your shows of pleasure.</p><p>“Like that darlin’?” He crooned, going at it again and rubbing in slow and circular motions that had your hips trying to trace his movements. </p><p>You moaned out in a low frustration, this feeling felt so good yet it felt not enough all at the same time. You chewed your lip repeatedly,      grinding your hips down more onto his digits.</p><p>“I want more...” you found yourself moaning out with little thought or concentration, a voice that came from within and was stoking the fires of a woman chasing her pleasure. </p><p>“Y’ want more?” He laughed a deep and lewd chuckle, pressing a singular kiss to the inside of your left knee. “Wantin’ don’t get, does it now?” He corrected you. “If y’ want it, beg for it.” His command took a selfishly sinister turn, an outlaw who wanted his ego stroking. As if he hadn’t had enough fun embarrassing you already. </p><p>The words seemed to cluster in your throat, their only barricade from emitting from your throat being your the uptight part of your brain that still held some of these ‘morales’ tightly. They screamed at you not beg for your pleasure from a ruthless outlaw who, you had to remind yourself, had removed you from your home against your own will.</p><p>Yet here with his fingers inside you and stoking a low pleasurable heat in your gut, you had to really attempt to fight back the urge to let him do whatever he wanted to you.</p><p>Eventually the carnal side of you won free from the constraints of your sheltered life as an innocent girl, mewing for his touch like a desperate kitten.</p><p>“Please- please it feels so good-“ you whined, chasing that high that was getting closer with everything passing seconds. Your senses were on high alert - feeling everything on another level to whatever you’d previously perceived. Any reasonable and sane thoughts were pretty much gone, as your body chased this immense heated pleasure how a starved fox may chase a rabbit.</p><p>Soon the intensity collided with a sudden consumption of pleasure, it engulfed your body like a vast explosion of stars - racing to every nerve ending and leaving you breathless and vision flurried with stars momentarily.</p><p>The outlaw gave you little chance to catch your breath, your sated state felt his hands grasping at your body and manoeuvring your position - ending up between your legs and there was the sudden sound of belt clinks and zippers being drawn down before you eventually collected yourself and realised now it was obviously time for him to collect his end of this ‘deal’.</p><p>“Liked that? Didn’t y?” He teased, as you felt the head of his cock just brush at your entrance. Automatically you were nervous, but your body was more than prepared after the last actions.</p><p>“Gonna like this too I reckon.” He growled, his strong arms braced either side of your shoulders as he pushed into you - the overtly hot and hard intrusion causing your already over sensitive body to squirm a little. </p><p>“Lie still.” He commanded you, “remember who’s in control here, girl.” He was quick to put you into your place as he started off his rhythm. Deep, concentrated and heavy breathing emitted from his broad chest, your legs spread wide to accommodate for him and suddenly this felt as natural as walking down the street. You should’ve been hating this yet here you were, body still warmly pleasantly basking in the after glow of the high as he used you. </p><p>“Fuck...” he cussed, language you’d usually be slightly shocked by- but in this heated, debauched space you found yourself caring very little.</p><p>It didn’t take him long, it was clear he’d stayed from this sort of activity for a while, and you proved just too much for him to resist his ecstasy any longer.</p><p>Energetic and well paced thrusts became sloppier, more languid yet hefty - he did a poor job of stifling some greedily satisfied groans and with one final push he finished, stilling inside you and his weight hanging over you as imposing as a great horse. </p><p>Arthur fell beside you, catching his breath somewhat yet he didn’t appear to be in a rush to make any conversation. There was a long pause where you embarrassingly sat there and pondered every second of the encounter - maybe it was just your inexperience but it felt so strange to just sit there in total silence.</p><p>When he eventually sat up, he once again dressed his bottom half - the musical zips and clinks of metal filling the otherwise quiet room. You laid in bed, watching him out of confusion mainly, and apprehension too. Apprehension of what was next.</p><p>“C’mon. Get dressed.” He ordered you in a plain tone of voice, “gotta getchu’ home.” </p><p>He wasn’t really one for words, although at this point you shouldn’t of been surprised. </p><p>Once dressed, he agreed he would wait for you out front to take you home. As your hands guided the various items of clothing back onto your person (discounting your torn underwear) - you started to wonder just what on earth kind of person you were dealing with. He seemed a strange mixture of carnal, primal instincts with sprinklings of a man in there somewhere.</p><p>Although it wasn’t your duty to determine, all you cared about now was getting home. </p><p>-</p><p>The ride back seemed longer now your anxiety had subsided, you’d taken to slipping the skirt of your dress underneath you as some form of covering from the back of the horse considering your underwear was in the trash bin in the hotel room. </p><p>Your hands settled nervously on Arthur’s waist as he rode through the varying beautiful landscapes with you; he didn’t help the hefty restive awkwardness in the air was his total silence. You’d known all along you’d been a means of ‘paying off the debt’ but in the aftermath you’d felt more cheap than you could’ve ever imagined.</p><p>Yet you’d actually thoroughly enjoyed the sexual side of the encounter.</p><p>“Here we are.” He spoke nonchalantly, drawing back softly on the reins as his Dutch Warmblood halted responsively in the dirt outside of the cabin. You were glad to see home, considering you’d left it in such an anxious state. Carefully, you slipped down from the mare’s back with a relief that your feet met solid ground.</p><p>Walking up to the porch, you turned to face the outlaw, his eyes once again shaded by the dark brim of his hat.</p><p>“Thanks for getting me hold safe.” It felt weird to say, this hadn’t exactly been some ‘knight in shining armour scenario’.</p><p>He nodded his head, turning his gaze away as he gathered up the reins in anticipation to set back off on whatever excursion he so fancied next. </p><p>“You be well now, Miss.” was all he said, a fair and polite exchange for a man who’d just taken your virginity in a questionable situation. Your eyes watched tentatively, only slipping safely inside once Arthur had left - the only traces of him being the earlier boot prints in the mud outside your home.</p><p>Pressing your back fully against the door, it clicked shut behind you and you let out a long overdue breath of relief and sheer confusion alike. What a crazed day this had turned out to be.</p><p>And the dishes in the sink reminded you that despite seedy bargains with loans and dubious means of repayment... the washing up still needed tending to.</p>
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